Stealing Time
by Please.Insert.Name
Summary: In 1978 James Potter started dating Lily Evans, the first war was raging, and Harry Potter showed up at Hogwarts to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Wait... Something's different...
1. Chapter 1

_"If you don't have time to do it right, when will you have time to do it over?"_  
 _~ John Wooden_

It was Christmas time. The Great Hall was packed to burst with decorations, students chittered gleefully about going home for Christmas, and even Peeves wore a Christmas hat – albeit one that said 'Bah Humbug'. However, the joy that seemed to fill everyone this time of year was absent from Harry.

Walking through the draughty castle, he didn't see any of this cheer, all he could see was Ginny, packing up her bags… Leaving him.

She had been right to. She was always right.

After the war he had become a recluse, if it hadn't been for McGonagall offering him the DADA post then he probably would have been halfway through a bottle of Firewhiskey by now.

At 11am in the morning Firewhiskey was not an ideal breakfast.

Instead he had just finished breakfast in the Great Hall, even if he did love bacon it was a slightly healthier alternative.

Walking through the cloisters the wind howled at him, and Harry wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and sped up.

He was almost back to his office when he saw a tabby cat from the corner of his eye. It was looking at him, almost piercingly so, its eyes filled with worry.

When did cats worry about anything but themselves…

"Minerva, why are you spying on me?"

The cat cocked its head to the side, it did a damn fine impression of looking confused.

"Please Minerva, I would recognise you anywhere, why are you spying on me?" sighed Harry. Surely she never thought he was that stupid?

"Very well, Harry," said Minerva, the tabby shimmering for a moment before turning into the Headmistress of Hogwarts. "We are concerned about you, Hermione said you've been ignoring her invitations to go over for Christmas. That didn't sound like you."

"Well maybe I'm not the person everyone thinks I am," bit back Harry. The words were out before he could stop them.

Minerva's gaze softened for a minute, and Harry was strikingly reminded of Dumbledore in that compassionate gaze that he swore could see through his mind.

"Harry, if you need to talk you know where my quarters are. You are not the only one that has lost people," Minerva's eyes darkened for a minute, and Harry remembered that she normally spent the year with Dumbledore. Two years on his absence was still being felt.

"Thank you," said Harry stiffly. Merlin this was awkward.

Thankfully two Second Years chose at that moment to run by, one shooting a jet of light at the other, which was skilfully dodged. Minerva swooped on them, pulling them back with a nonverbal spell.

"I hope one of you can tell me what you think is urgent enough to almost knock myself and Professor Potter down for?" she said to the terrified Second Years.

Taking this as his cue to leave, Harry started making his way to his office again, internally grateful to the two students who would soon be in detention. Maybe he'd offer to cover it and make it easy for them, they did get him out of that conversation.

Back in the seclusion of his office, his eyes guiltily crept towards his drinks cabinet. There was a bottle of Firewhiskey, three quarters full. He told himself it was to help with the nightmares, but he wasn't sure when that reason had started to slip. Yes, he wasn't as dependent as when he first came to teach at Hogwarts, but that was only because he had responsibilities now.

Far be it for him to destroy the image of the Man-Who-Conquered for his students.

He could almost laugh at the title the Daily Prophet had thrust upon him. Even the Aurors had offered to take him in, but he had seen enough of violence and destruction. He figured if he taught then he might at least prevent anyone else going Dark and trying to destroy the world.

But then there was no threat now. Not a major one anyway. He didn't think he knew how to survive in a peaceful world. His adolescence had been filled with horror, death, war, he never really knew anything different. During those times he had longed for peace, for being able to rest, the weight of defeating Voldemort taken off his shoulders, but now that that had happened he felt surplus to requirement.

What would he do now?

Those thoughts just made him feel guilty again. He missed the war, did that make him a monster?

Batting those thoughts away he looked around his bleaker quarters. He had never really decorated, never saw the point. The wallpaper looked as if it had been there since the Founders, the furniture was slightly more modern, he'd hazard a guess at Grindelwald's time.

This wasn't _his._

When this mood descended on him, he knew that there was one place he had to go. One place that was exclusively his, that no one else could reach.

He just wishes he never had to go by Moaning Myrtle to get there.

"Harry," Myrtle said in a singsong voice, "Back again? I knew you couldn't resist me".

Myrtle floated in front of the sink, she was almost reclining on it, her mouth spread into what was meant to be a seductive smile.

"Get out of the way, Myrtle," Harry almost growled. He _had_ to get away.

"Always so mean, Harry," Myrtle sulked, crossing her arms, but still not moving.

"Myrtle, move, or I will walk through you" Harry was surprised at the venom in his voice.

"People are always walking through Myrtle," Myrtle sobbed, "It's like they have no respect for the dead" she shrieked the last part, moving away from her perch and disappearing with a splash down the toilet.

Harry knew he would pay for that later, but now he couldn't care. Hissing "Open" he watched as the sink moved, descending to open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

It was funny that somewhere he had once held with so much fear had become the one place he could go to collect his thoughts. It was twisted… Almost.

Descending into the bowels of the castle, he heard the entrance shut behind him, thanking himself for installing lights the first time he came down here since his arrival. The orbs of light bobbed closer to the ceiling, luminescent bubbles giving the once grim chamber a homier feel. Once he had gotten rid of the animal bones and the Basilisk the place had brightened up more, the horror that had once been visited on this place removed.

Like placing a carpet over a bloodstain, you knew it was there, but you couldn't see it so it bothered you less.

As he entered the chamber, his footsteps were sure, not hesitant like he had been in his Second Year. Now he knew this place, there were no horrors lurking in here anymore. Well, none that he couldn't handle anyway.

Walking the well-worn path towards the statue to Salazar - the one thing he could not get rid of – he hissed "open" once more, and a doorway appeared to the left of the statue, so small that he might had missed it if he didn't know it was already there.

When he had came down here after taking up his teaching position, he had tried to dismantle the statue of Salazar, to remove the last blot that marred this place. _His_ place. In doing so he had discovered a new chamber… More a library, its shelves stacked with books and artefacts. Harry knew Hermione would have loved it down here, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to share it with her yet. For now this secret was his. One of his only secrets that was not splashed over the pages of the Prophet.

He had tried to hide his split from Ginny, keep that a secret, but somehow that got out.

Shaking his head sadly, he chased away those morose thoughts. Those thoughts were for evening spent in front of the fireplace with a tumbler in his hand, not for here.

Last time he was here, he had been about to move it around – Salazar had cared more for books than for space to read books. The room was stacked to the ceiling with tomes, and relaxing his shoulders and taking a deep breath he got stuck in.

He didn't know how many hours he had been down there when he found it. Hidden behind one stack of books he had stumbled across a glass container. Inside it was an hourglass, its frame was golden, the sand within it almost translucent, catching on the light and casting rainbow patterns upon the glass.

It was beautiful.

Almost without recognising it, he lifted the lid on the glass container. He just _had_ to touch it. The light coming from the hourglass seemed to grow brighter, almost compelling him to pick it up. His searching fingers clasped its frame, lifting it from its glass prison. He could hear a faint voice in the back of his head, he made out the word "stop!" but it was too late for that. He couldn't, he simply couldn't.

He turned it once, twice, mesmerised by how the grains of sand moved, ghosting from one end of the hourglass to the next.

It was then he realised he was not alone.

Why was Salazar Slytherin in Hogwarts?

As if reading his mind, the aged wizard smiled, a gentler smile than one Harry thought the Founder of Slytherin would had been capable of.

"So you found it, I had wondered how long it would take," his voice was ghostly, like a shadow of a person.

"I've found what?" asked Harry, panic rising in his chest as he realised what it was he had done.

"The Hourglass of Te Nosce, child! You did realise what it was before you picked it up?!" Salazar seemed incredulous.

"No, I just wanted to touch it," admitted Harry, wondering where that compulsion had came from.

"Foolish child, my heir could not do this," spluttered Salazar, his eyes filled with rage and dawning comprehension.

"What will happen?" asked Harry, noticing with start that the light that the hourglass emitted was lapping up his arm, spreading quickly.

"You will go back to a time that you most wish," said Salazar.

"Will it be in my lifetime?" asked Harry. This could not be happening.

"No, this was designed for my heir. He was meant to come back and stop Godric throwing me out, and you're wasting it!" replied Salazar, his voice laced with contempt.

"I get it, I shouldn't have touched it! What will happen?!" asked Harry. He couldn't believe he was being lectured by the ghost of a Founder, maybe he had drank too much Firewhiskey and this was a delusion?

"You will assume the identity of someone in that timeline, only if someone was extremely close to you will they have any hint of suspicion. That was how I was meant to recognise my heir," said Salazar bitterly, aware that he could do nothing to stop this now.

The light had almost fully encompassed Harry now, he knew he only had seconds left.

"How do I get back?" he asked, his mind scrambling desperately to catch up with this situation.

"When you have finished what you need to do," said Salazar, "Try not to die though, it will mess up the timeline quite a bit."

With those final, not completely reassuring words, Harry felt the light encompass him, and then he fell into darkness. The last thing he saw was Salazar sneering at him, the ghost's eyes filled with contempt and bitterness.

 _A/N: Hello, I've been itching to write another timetravel fic and I finally got inspiration! It has been a few years since my last one, so I'm a little rusty - I hope this is okay! I confess I stole the concept of the hourglass and Salazar from one of my previous stories, however, I fleshed it out a little more here - it was more a footnote in the first one. Please review and let me know what you think! :)_

 _DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter_


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you know why I'm right, Wormtail?" asked James, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"You've only told us a thousand times, Prongs, give it a rest," sighed Sirius, running his hands through his shaggy brown hair.

"Dumbledore wouldn't have made me Head Boy if I wasn't the best candidate," said James smugly, the badge noting his position gleaming on his chest, as if it too wanted to show off.

"Or maybe you were the only one he thought would be stupid enough to take on all that extra work," suggested Remus. Sirius guffawed, and Peter let out a small smile. James, however, just frowned.

"Any idea on how close to Hogwarts we are? I don't know how much longer I can stand your smugness for," said Sirius. "I thought the number one threat right now was Voldemort, but I think your ego might suffocate us before he can". Peter was the only one to flinch at the mention of the Dark Lord.

"I think we're near, it doesn't normally take much longer than this," said Remus, looking at his battered watch.

"Thank Merlin for that," said Sirius, stretching out so that he occupied most of the seat, squishing Peter into the corner.

"I think if you stretch out anymore you're going to suffocate Wormtail before me," retorted James, running his hands through his hair to get that windswept look.

"You don't mind, do you Peter?" asked Sirius, semi-seriously.

"No," said Peter, his voice betraying the fact he knew Sirius wouldn't move even if it was bothering him.

A sharp rap on the window of their compartment made his sit up though. Pulling the door aside Lily Evans strode in, casting a disdainful glance at the sweets littered over the tables.

"Ah, Evans, to what do we owe the pleasure?" asked James, biting the head of a Chocolate Frog.

"Chew with your mouth shut, Potter. We need to set an example to the First Years," replied Lily tersely.

"You can't deny I'm a trend setter," James winked.

Ignoring him, Lily pressed on. "We need to help get the First Years lined up, we'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes."

"Remember that extra work we mentioned earlier, this is it. Meanwhile, as you shepherd the ickle First Years I'm going to eat the rest of your liquorice wand," said Sirius, resuming his relaxed position.

"Careful who you say that to, Padfoot, I know I'm irresistible, but people might get the wrong idea," joked James.

"Are you coming, Potter?" asked Lily, her cheeks slightly flushed. She was either flustered or annoyed, the sigh of irritation that followed made James chiefly suspect the latter.

"Fine," said James, grabbing his cloak, "See you at dinner guys."

Closing the compartment door behind him, he realised that Lily had already gone ahead. Hurrying, he soon caught up with her.

"Hey, stop for a minute," he said, grateful when she turned around.

"What, Potter? We don't have much time," said Lily, irritation colouring her voice.

"I just wanted to say well done on getting Head Girl," said James, the words sounding lame to him the moment they fell from his lips.

She looked unsure for a minute, the fact non-mocking words had came from him throwing her for a second. "Thanks," she replied, "You too."

"So where do we need to be?" asked James, aware that this conversation was becoming awkward.

"We need to get to the First Years' carriage and get them to Hagrid before he takes them over the lake," said Lily.

"It seems strange that it was Seven Years ago that we did that," said James.

"I seem to recall you pushing me in, it wasn't exactly the best arrival to Hogwarts," replied Lily, however, this time no anger was in her voice.

"I still maintain that Sirius pushed me," James put his hand over his heart, as if this lent his words anymore truth.

"Whatever, Potter, I would like to think we're past that. We're going to have to work together a lot this year," said Lily.

"You can be the good role model, I'll be the fun one," said James, grinning a little at the thought of working more closely with Lily.

"Are you saying I'm not fun?" challenged Lily, the anger back.

"Not with that expression, no. Now are we going to the First Years or do you just want to spend more time alone with me?" asked James, winking at her.

"I thought that when Dumbledore gave you that badge it meant you might have grown up a little," muttered Lily, resuming her advance through the carriages.

"I wouldn't hold your breath," retorted James to her receding back.

This was weird.

This was really, really weird. And to someone who had killed a Dark Lord, fought horcruxes, killed a Basilisk calling something weird was a big deal.

He appeared to be in the grounds of Hogwarts, the castle windows were all illuminated, and it was bitterly cold.

With shaking hands he cast a tempus charm.

 _01/09/1978 6.55pm_

The numbers burned in the air in front of them, jagged and orange, but he just stared numbly at them, refusing to take them in.

He could not be in the 70's. He just couldn't.

Salazar said the hourglass would take him back to a time that he wished to see. What was there in the 70's?

Well, quite a few things actually…

There was Dumbledore, still alive and easier to talk to than the painting currently hanging in Minerva's office.

There was also his parents… If he did his maths right then they would be in their Seventh Year… Three years until they were murdered.

He felt a chill go down his spin that was nothing to do with the unseasonable weather.

Voldemort would be at the height of his powers just now. The First War would be happening.

He did say that he missed war…

But then why was he at Hogwarts? There were no attacks on Hogwarts during the First War, he was sure of that. So that meant he wasn't here to fight.

Maybe Dumbledore would know.

Making a start towards the castle, he tried to ignore the voice in his head that said a drink – forget that, more like a bottle – of Firewhiskey would make this better. Passing by he could already hear the sounds of the students milling into the castle, and within ten minutes he was at the entrance hall where a Minerva McGonagall, looking only slightly different than she did in his time, was staring at him disapprovingly.

He felt like a First Year again.

"Professor Evans, you're late," she said, and Harry could hear the annoyance. When Mad-Eye had shown up during the middle of the feast she hadn't batted an eyelid!

"Sorry, Minerva, where am I meant to go?" he asked, his thoughts racing in confusion. So he was a Professor here too?

"Just go into the hall, I have the First Years lined up and ready to go in for the Sorting," she said, waving him through into the Great Hall.

The noise in the Great Hall momentarily stunned Harry, and walking through the rows he felt more than a few eyes were drawn to him. Eventually making it to the staff table, Dumbledore smiled at him, and gestured for him to take the seat next to him.

Sliding in, Harry felt the hall grow silent as the doors opened and the First Years came through. Half of them looked sick with nerves, whereas the other half were scanning the tables, looking for relatives or friends from which to draw comfort. Minerva was at the head, carrying the stool and the Sorting Hat. Placing them in front of the staff table, she took a step back, pulling out a sheet of paper from the inside of her robes, beginning the Sorting.

Harry's eyes, however, were not drawn to the gaggle of First Years, but to the Gryffindor table. Scanning it quickly, his eyes caught onto a flash of red hair, similar to the Weasley's, but as that person turned he did not feel any surprise at recognising them. Lily was eighteen, her face happy, looking completely different from the woman he saw in the Mirror of Erised and the graveyard. This Lily, whilst troubled by the war, was still sheltered from it, safe in education, even if it was only just for one more year.

Moving up the table, he recognised his father in an instant. He really was the spitting image of James, however, where his green eyes were filled with regrets and sorrow, James's blue ones were youthful, mischievous, and Harry wondered what pranks he was already planning. Sirius was sitting across from James, and Harry felt a lump in his throat when he thought about his godfather. The last time he had seen Sirius was when he walked into the Forbidden Forest, certain he was facing death. This Sirius was merely staring at the golden plates, clearly wishing the feast could begin. Sitting next to James was Remus, looking so much younger and less strained than when Harry had last seen him. Images of the bodies lying in the Great Hall, flashed into his mind, and he shook his head, trying to remove the picture from his mind.

With a start, he realised that the Sorting was over, he wasn't even sure he had heard the cheering. Dumbledore was now on his feet, his arms spread wide as if to welcome the whole room to the start of the new term.

"A good evening to you all," said Dumbledore, his voice filled with warmth. "To new students, welcome! To returning students, I hope you haven't managed to lose everything you learned last year during the considerably long summers break," this was met with a laugh from the students.

"Before we make a start on our rather marvellous feast" gasps rang out as the gold plates and platters were suddenly covered in food "I would like to make a few announcements. Firstly, I would like to introduce, Professor Harry Evans, he will be your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Harry waved to the students, feeling a little like an animal in the zoo as all the eyes turned to stare at him.

"Now, listen carefully, my next announcement may mean the difference between life and death," said Dumbledore, and Harry felt the mood of the room change. This was a room full of students who knew war, and all waited nervously for Dumbledore to stat speaking again.

"Over the summer there were attacks near Hogsmeade. Therefore if you want to venture to Hogsmeade on Sundays, you will need to be issued with a pass from one of your Professors who will then accompany you. Do not leave Hogwarts without a member of staff". Harry swore Dumbledore looked over to the Gryffindor table as he said this. "It is now, more than any other time that we must be united. One flame is weak, but many flames are powerful, and standing together Light will extinguish Dark. But that is enough on these matters, do not let them mar this delicious feast. Dig in."

Dumbledore sat down and the noise in the hall picked up again, the promise of food cheering everyone up. Harry noticed to his amusement that Sirius was already tearing into a chicken leg.

"I had wondered when you would arrive," said Dumbledore, turning to look at Harry, the light glinting off his half-moon spectacles.

"I'm sorry I was late," said Harry, getting the sickening feeling that his running late was not what Dumbledore was talking about.

"I had a house-elf take your possessions to your rooms," said Dumbledore, and if he was surprised at the confusion that flashed over Harry's face, he hid it well.

What possessions?

"Thank you," said Harry, "Have there been any more recent attacks on Hogsmeade?"

For the first time, Harry saw weariness flash over Dumbledore's face, "A village was burned only a mile from Hogsmeade about a week ago."

Lapsing into silence, Harry starting eating his chicken, it tasted like ash in his mouth. He had only heard snippets of what happened during the First War, but he knew that there had been more damages, more lives lost. Looking around the hall he wondered how many of these students would be dead in the next three years, their lives lost in Voldemort's insanity. Feeling sick, he excused himself, exiting the hall from the back door.

Walking quickly over the flagstones, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to chase away the morbid thoughts that had thought it fit to take residence in his head. Unwittingly he found he had walked back to where his living chambers were in the present. A picture of a fruit bowl covered the entrance, and he tickled the pineapple, which let out a shriek, before the painting moved to reveal the entrance.

Walking in, he saw that the room was the exact same as how he had left it, even though that was almost twenty years in the future.

Sitting by the door was his trunk, and he laughed out loud at the fact his accommodation was the one thing that hadn't changed.

Wishing he had spoken more the Mrs Weasley about household spells, he unzipped his trunk and started unpacking the muggle way. It was only when he got to the bottom that he found it.

Trust the magic hourglass to think he would need alcohol.

Placing the bottle of Firewhiskey in his drinks cabinet, he proceeded to get changed into his pyjamas, wanting nothing more to go to bed and for this to be a dream.

… Maybe he'd have one before he went to bed.

One turned into two, two turned into three, three turned into four, and four turned into… What did he care, he was drunk.

At midnight, he collapsed into bed – even in 1978 he followed his same routine – and his arms reflexively reached out for Ginny.

Even in 1978 he still felt crushing disappointment that she wasn't there, and huddling in his cold sheets, Harry Potter let the darkness consume him.

 _A/N: Hello! Thank you for the response to the first chapter, it really boosted my confidence in writing again! I have to say it was a lot of fun writing Lily and James in this chapter, I always enjoy doing their scenes. I hope this was okay, and I'll try and update soon._

 _DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._


	3. Chapter 3

_He was running. Why was he always running? Glancing around he seemed to be in a forest, green shrubbery passing in a blur as he tumbled through the undergrowth. The hair on the back of his neck tingled, standing up to attention in that primordial way that told him he was being watched._

 _The trees seemed to be darker now, and ahead he saw a flash of colour darting between branches. Following it, he forced his aching muscles to carry him further, crashing through the vegetation, all thoughts of being watched now fading to the back of his mind._

 _He knew, somehow, he knew that following this would get him out of here._

 _"Diffindo" he muttered, slashing a deep gash of a tree. Breadcrumbs, like Hansel and Gretal he would find his way out. Muttering the spell every few paces he followed in hot pursuit, and it took him several steps to realise that whatever he had seen had gone._

 _No. It couldn't, it was his only hope._

 _Onwards he ran, his legs were truly tiring now, and with one last desperate glance ahead he felt himself falling, the rich smell of dirt and decaying plants invading his nostrils. Rolling onto his back, he looked up at the sky, the light fading fast and darkness creeping towards him. Looking at the trees he tried to place where he was, and with a growing sense of unease he saw a deep gash on an old redwood. He couldn't have been here before... Pulling himself up, he looked around and saw similar cuts in all the trees._

 _How many times had he done this? How long had he been here?_

 _With despair crippling him, he fell once again, the sheer weight of this knowledge driving him down into the mud. With the light disappearing, his vision faded, and before it was fully extinguished, he saw the flash of colour again just at the edge of his vision, mocking him._

* * *

Harry awoke with a gasp, his sheets clung to him as he tried to get his erratic breathing under control. He could feel his heart beating madly in his chest, and he slumped back onto his pillows feeling as if he had just ran a marathon.

Calming slightly, he felt the headache that had been lurking at the edge of his consciousness pounce, stunning him for a moment.

Pushing past the pain in his temple he pondered to himself. Why did he always see the forest?

This thought was swiftly replaced by panic when he looked at his watch and saw it was 8am.

First day of term and he had slept in... Not exactly a great start.

Clambering out of bed he winced as the movement made his head throb even more, he pulled his clothes out of the wardrobe, grateful he had had the presence of mind to unpack last night.

Once changed into what he hoped was acceptable clothing for the era – you would not catch him in flared trousers and platform shoes thank you very much – he moved through to the living room, his eyes passing over the empty bottle of Firewhiskey with a tiny pang of guilt.

Above his desk, he saw there was already timetable there of his lessons. Sometimes living in a magical living castle had its perks.

Okay, it was Monday. That meant, Second Years at 9am-11am, Fourth Years 11am-1pm, a two hour break, and Seventh Years 3pm-5pm.

That wasn't so bad. He had an hour to prepare, surely the teaching syllabus couldn't be that much different.

Luckily he was right, although he was concerned to see that there were a lot darker spells on offer than there were in his time. Although he did guess they were at war, and it wasn't like Mad-Eye hadn't taught them a few dark curses.

That sorted, he suddenly realised that he was hungry, having only picked at his dinner the previous night. Casting a quick tempus, he saw that he had just over half an hour until class. Thinking that was enough time to go and grab a few slices of bacon, Harry grabbed his cloak and set out for the Great Hall.

* * *

James yawned, still undecided on whether or not to get toast first and then bacon, or bacon and then toast.

"Prongs, I think in the time you have spent deciding what to eat, you could have eaten it already," said Sirius, happily munching on a sausage.

"Breakfast is one of the most important meals of the day, I will not ruin it by making a bad choice," replied James.

If he was honest, he had absolutely no appetite. Last night he and Lily had escorted the First Years to their dormitories and then met with the Prefects to discuss patrols. He had then walked her back to Gryffindor tower having generic "what did you do on your summer" chat that he didn't even take in because his mind was overwhelmed by it all. In one night he had been closer to Lily Evans than he had in his entire Sixth Year and he didn't know how much more he could take. It was too awesome for words to even describe...

"I would say that that gormless look isn't one of indecision over what to eat for breakfast, and more about a certain Gryffindor Head Girl," said Remus astutely, and much to his annoyance James felt himself flush whilst Peter gave a chuckle.

"Ah ha," said Sirius, triumph in his eyes, "So what happened at the Prefect meeting then? I knew something was going on!"

"Nothing, shove off," muttered James, grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing it in his dry mouth. It had the texture of carpet.

And of course, at that moment, Lily decided to appear.

"James, we need to take the First Years to their classes," said Lily, her eyes filled with disgust at how James was chewing loudly on the piece of toast.

Why did she always appear when he was stuffing his face?

Swallowing – it felt like a cement block in his stomach – James rasped back "Sure, I'll be there in a minute," before grabbing his pumpkin juice to try and get some moisture back in his mouth. He could see Sirius concealing a laugh and frowned at him.

Watching Lily head to the front of the hall to round up the First Years, he shook his head and ran his hands through his hair, trying to get some semblance of normal thought running in his head.

Lily Evans was going to be the death of him.

* * *

The first two classes had been a blur, the students had been good, really good in fact, and so he had had an easy time explaining things to them. Now he was setting up for his last class, the Seventh Years. When he had seen the lesson plan for this session he had almost went up to Dumbledore and demanded it be changed, but then it was similar to his lessons with Mad-Eye, and that had actually helped him a lot in his timeline.

Thankfully over the course of the morning his headache had receded a little, however, he still felt awful. In a way he was happy he had done this class before.

Watching the Seventh Years file in, Harry's eyes were drawn to Lily as she sat down near the front. Next to her was a blonde haired girl that with a start Harry placed as Alice Longbottom, Neville's future mother. He felt the same sickness he had experience in the Great Hall the previous night well up within him as his mind played over her fate. Here she was laughing with a boy sitting behind her – that must be Frank – the woman in St Mungo's a mere shade of this happy youthful girl who had lost her sanity because of a stupid prophecy. His eyes then rested on Snape, the greasy haired teenager also shadow of the man in which he would become. For a moment Harry was transported back to the Shrieking Shack, Severus's last moments trying to tell him what he had kept secret for so long...

Shaking his head to chase away these cobwebs of memory, he felt disgust rise in him once more as he contemplated the lesson.

Thankfully these morbid thoughts were banished with the arrival of James, Remus, Sirius and Peter. As he was sitting down, Harry saw James glance over at Lily, and for a moment he was reminded of how Ginny had used to look at him, feeling the cold arms of despair grip him once more.

It seemed this lesson was not going to be good for his mental health.

Pressing on, Harry waited until they were all seated before beginning.

"Hello class, I am Professor Evans. Professor Dumbledore has granted me the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts in order to teach you the ways in which you can defend yourselves against those who would wish to do you harm. I will keep this brief. This class may mean the difference between life and death to you, study hard and you will be rewarded not just with good grades but with security, safe in the knowledge that you know how to protect yourself," looking over the rapt class, Harry felt bitterness coat his tongue when he realised just how hollow this speech was...

"In that light, Professor Dumbledore has seen it fit for you to see what you are up against. And so in this lesson I will show you the three Unforgivable Curses," Harry heard the class draw in a collective breath at this, and he saw Lily raise a shaking hand.

"Yes," he made a show of consulting the register, "Miss Evans?"

"But Sir, is that not against the school rules?" asked Lily, her face paler than usual.

"It has been seen fit by the school and the Ministry that you should be prepared for what threats there are out there. You will not be casting the curses, I will merely be showing them to you, to show you the harm that can be done so you can realise the fully implications of these actions," Harry glanced over to the pupils in the room, seeing more than a few future Death Eaters amongst them, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike.

"Are there any more questions?" asked Harry, and seeing no one raise their hands he pulled out three glass jars - a spider in each - from his desk drawer.

"The first curse I will show you is the Imperius Curse. Can any of you tell me what this does?" asked Harry, fishing the first spider out of its jar.

Once again making a show of checking the register, he selected Snape to answer.

"It controls the victim like a puppet, the caster has full control," answered Snape, and Harry could almost hear the relish in his voice... If only he knew.

"Excellent Mr Snape," said Harry, and pointing his want at the spider now sitting on his desk, he muttered "Imperio".

At once he got the spider dancing, its eight legs doing a complicated tap dance, before bouncing it over the desks of the students to varying shrieks and squeals.

"This might seem harmless," said Harry, seeing the amuse looks flitting across the students faces now the initial horror had passed, "But this can also make most people walk willingly to their deaths."

With that he raised the spider over his goblet of water, lowering it slowly, moving it closer and closer to the water.

"Stop!" yelled Lily, her face a mask of despair.

"You see, it is not as funny as you initially thought," said Harry, realising the spider from the curse and settling it back into the jar. "It is incredibly hard to resist the Imperius Curse, and you might watch yourself commit atrocities, unable to control your actions." He saw James raise his hand.

"Yes, Mr Potter?"

"Sir, have you ever had this cast on you?" asked James, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Yes, I have had all of these spells bar the last once cast on me," lied Harry. It probably wouldn't be good to advertise the fact that he had survived the killing curse. He saw the class reel slightly, revaluating this young professor in front of them.

"Did you resist the Imperius Curse?" asked Sirius.

"Yes... Eventually, it takes a strength of mind that some witches and wizards do not possess, but as soon as you recognise that you are under the Imperius Curse that is when you can start to resist."

"What did it feel like?" asked a Slytherin girl with long blonde hair at the back of the classroom.

Harry glanced at the register, "Good question Miss Perkins, it feels like you are floating and that you do not have a care in the world. It is only when you are released that you realise what you have done, and that can range from minor acts to murder."

As the class digested this new information, Harry pulled the second spider from its jar.

"The second curse is far more overt. The Cruciatus Curse is used to bring pain to its victims, twisting them into shapes they did not think possible and feels like a thousand white hot knives are pricking your skin," His eyes scanned over Alice and Frank and the sick feeling came back.

There were no questions this time, the students captured in morbid curiosity and silent horror. Channeling the rage he felt thinking about the fates of most students in this classroom, Harry uttered "Crucio". The spider convulsed, its legs twisting and shaking, and even though Harry couldn't hear it, he knew it was screaming. He had done the same after all.

"Stop it," said Alice, her face pale and drawn, and gratefully Harry lifted the curse.

"You need to want to inflict pain to cast this, the way I cast it was relatively weak, but under an experienced castor, this spell can turn even the strongest person mad," again his eyes glanced over Alice and Frank. "It is brutal, and used first and foremost for torture."

"Now, the last curse is the Killing Curse," the class had suddenly gone quiet as he pulled the reluctant spider from its jar, "This curse is irreversible and there is no magical defence from it. In one incantation you can kill someone, and this is considered the darkest curse of the three."

"Avada kedavra," said Harry, watching the green light flash from his wand, ending the life of the wriggling spider sitting on his desk.

The silence in the classroom became even more oppressive, and Harry found himself looking over at Lily and James, fighting the urge to end the lesson right there.

"However unpalatable this lesson was, you need to learn about these curses to understand them and realise the full consequences of using them. I am not blind, I know that some of you have sympathies with the Dark, but know first the consequences that that magic can bring. All magic has consequences, any spell can be used for good and evil-"

"How can any of these be used for good?" asked James incredulously without raising his hand.

"For example the Killing Curse can be used for painless euthanasia," remarked Harry, "Intention is vital in using all magic, magic is not Light or Dark, only your motivations are. Voldemort is a clear example of what happens when you only use magic for Dark purposes." Harry saw more than a few pupils wince at his casual use of the name. "That is enough for today, for next week I want you to write me a 16" paper on curses that can be used both for Dark and Light depending on ones intentions. Dismissed."

As the pupils filed out, Harry saw down in his chair, his eyes on the spider now sitting immobile on his desk wondering just how many of his pupils would meet the same fate.

1978 was not going to be easy.

* * *

A/N: Hello, sorry for the long break, I just started back at university again and have a bucket load of coursework to do. I hope this was okay and not too morbid. There will be more of Lily and James in the next chapter, this chapter just kind of exploded and went a completely different direction than I intially devised.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter


	4. Chapter 4

"That was quite a strange lesson," said Lily as they exited the classroom.

"Who cares, we got out 20 minutes early, I'd call that a win," said Sirius, looking about as happy as a dog who had found a rather large chew toy.

"No, she's right, did you see how he kept staring at us?" said Remus.

"No, he wasn't staring at us, he was staring at Alice and Frank," said James, looking back at the two Gryffindor's walking hand in hand no doubt trying to find a quiet classroom to spend time in before dinner.

"He was probably just nervous, I mean he is almost the same age as us. It must be daunting," reasoned Lily.

"Yeah, that's probably it," agreed James. Although he still had some doubts nagging at the back of his mind.

"Lily, when did you become friends with these losers?" Merlin, James knew that voice.

"I think you will find that you are in fact the loser, Snivellus," taunted Sirius, unable to resist the bait.

"Drop it, Padfoot," muttered James.

"Yes, Sirius, I can speak for myself," said Lily, her eyes flashing in warning. "Severus, what do you want?"

"I want to talk to you," said Snape, and James noted his sneer faltered a little.

"I'll catch up with you," said Lily, effectively dismissing them and reluctantly James motioned for Remus, Sirius and Peter to walk away.

"Why did you stop me?" asked Sirius angrily, the moment they were out of earshot.

Looking back, James saw Lily heading away from them with Snape following behind like a puppy that was waiting to be scolded.

"Remember Fifth Year, before summer?" hissed James, his neck flushing at the memory.

"How could I forget?" Sirius smiling at the memory. "It was the last time we got to have a proper go at him".

"Before he called her… _that…_ Lily was saying how disgusting I was for tormenting Snape," said James.

"But then she left us to it," said Sirius.

"I think we are better off leaving him alone," said James firmly.

"You just don't want to annoy Lily," teased Sirius.

"That's true, she can look after herself," conceded James, "But there are also enough people out there who wouldn't hesitate to try to hurt us, I mean the village next to Hogsmeade was attacked just last week."

"3 people died," said Remus quietly.

"… and two are missing," interjected Peter.

"This war is getting serious and we need to grow up a bit, we just had a lesson on the Unforgivable Curses for Merlin's sake," said James, and he saw Sirius's expression sober.

"Okay, I'll layoff," said Sirius. "We barely interacted with him last year anyway."

"I know, but we are probably going to see more of him this year because I am Head Boy I will be seeing more of Lily. You must have noticed that Snape seems to follow her around like a dog that doesn't know it's not wanted". It was true, it was quite sickening.

"I have a feeling her conversation with him may change that," mused Remus.

* * *

"What do you want to talk about, Severus? I thought you made it perfectly clear you don't want to associate with people like me," said Lily, once they were alone in what appeared to be an old Charms classroom. Snape flinched at her words, and she felt some satisfaction.

"That was a year ago, did you not get my letters?"

"I did get them," admitted Lily,

"Then why did you not reply?" asked Snape, the hurt written plainly across his face.

"I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your new friends. Imagine they knew you were once friends with, to use your term, a Mudblood," replied Lily, and Severus's eyes flicked to the ground unable to meet hers.

"I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just-"

"Slipped out? It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends ... You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine". She was angry now. Angry that the Death Eaters had taken away her first friend in the Wizarding World, angry that he had chosen them even though he knew they wanted to genocide people like her, and above all angry that she hadn't noticed him slipping into the Dark.

"You were my first, my only, friend," whispered Snape, tears pooling in his eyes. Lily noted that he looked paler and more drawn than usual, yet at the same time this was the closest he had been to her Severus in years.

"Were you at the attack on the village near Hogsmeade?" The answer to this would determine if that Severus she knew would ever come back, yet to her dismay she saw his eyes dip to the floor again.

"I had no choice," whispered Severus, his voice flat and emotionless.

"You did, and you made it. If you had come to me then I would have listened, but now it is too late. You can't be friends with me and yet work for a man that wants to kill people like me. It doesn't work like that."

Not knowing what else she could say Lily left, closing the door gently behind her. On the other side Severus just stood there, tears running down his cheeks, whispering "I'm sorry" over and over again.

* * *

The Great Hall was louder than usual. With the first day of term over with, students were keen to talk about what gossip they had overheard in their classes. James was pretty sure the story about Edwin Longmere growing a tail in Potions after spilling some of his concoction over him was about 75% fabricated. Still, it made an entertaining tale… pardon the pun.

"And then I heard from a Ravenclass in the class that he grew the ears of a donkey," laughed Frank. And James mentally raised the total from 75% to 80%. It would be 100% fabricated before the day was out. Poor Longmere.

His attention was diverted from Franks embellishments as Lily came into the hall. She looked upset, worried, and angry all in one go. It was impressive.

"You okay Lily?" asked James when she arrived to sit with them.

"I'm fine," came the automatic response, and James knew he would get nowhere with this line of questioning.

"Hey James," James mentally thanked Sirius from saving him from the monosyllabic conversation.

"What?"

"When is the first Quidditch practice gonna be?"

"I was thinking we could head down to the pitch this weekend for a practice," replied James. If there was one thing he had missed over the summer it was Quidditch. It really wasn't the same flying around the orchard throwing apples.

"Awesome, it'll be good to destroy Slytherin again this year," Sirius grinned.

"That'll make it three years in a row, right?" piped up Peter.

"Yes, and the first time Gryffindor will have won three years in a row since 1933," said Remus.

"Not a bad way to end our time at Hogwarts," said James, imagining holding up the Quidditch trophy, Lily running up to him, him opening his arms and hugging her…

"… And he's gone," said Sirius, pretending to check James's pulse.

"Oi, get off," said James, yanking his wrist out of Sirius's grip his daydream rudely dispelled.

"What were you thinking?" Great, of course Lily had to notice. At least she was smiling, even though it was at his expense.

"Just that that would be a nice way to leave things," replied James, not fully meeting Lily in the eye and feeling a blush creep up his neck.

"A trophy and a new personal best for Gryffindor, the girls would be all over us!" said Sirius enthusiastically.

"I'm sure they would be," said Lily, laughter dancing in her eyes. Whatever had been troubling her before seemed to have vanished, although James still detected a little sadness lingering at the corners of her mouth, as if she could easily go from a smile to a frown.

"Do you want to come and watch us train?" he asked impulsively.

"You mean freeze on a pitch and watch you try and kill each other on brooms?"

"Not kill, merely injure a little. A bludger doesn't hurt that much, honest," interjected Sirius.

"Alice, what do you think?" asked Lily.

"Why not, it beats doing our essays," shrugged Alice

"I still can't believe Slughorn is making us write 10 inches on Wolfsbane already. It's just the first day back," James moaned, looking up at the teachers table where Slughorn was in deep conversation with Professor Evans. A one-sided conversation by the looks of it, as the DADA Professor had that polite smile on his face that showed he was only really there in body.

"Well how about we come to practice, and then we can study together in the Common Room before our rounds?" suggested Lily.

"That sounds good," said James, trying to place it cool.

"Although you can't copy from me," said Lily.

"I think I'll be okay with this one," said James, and when he saw Remus wince slightly he added, "I was studying over the summer."

Lily looked impressed. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Trust me, it was a really boring summer," said Sirius, and James shot him a grateful look. In reality he'd only taken a glance at the syllabus this year, he and Sirius had spent most time flying around on their brooms. Why did he always feel the need to impress her, it always made him do something stupid!

"Sounds it," said Lily, not looking entirely convinced. "Anyway, Alice and I are going to go and visit Hagrid now. He said he had found a beetle that breathes fire so I'm going to try and help him identify it."

"It can't be worse than when he tried to make a Niffler his pet," said James, remembering having to scramble round Hagrid's hut trying to catch the creature.

"We'll see…" said Alice.

"Anyway, tell him I said hi," said James, reaching for a second helping of chicken.

"Will do. See you tomorrow," said Lily.

"Why did you mention the essay?" whispered Remus once Alice and Lily had left.

"Relax, it's fine, and now I practically have a date," said James, letting the grin he'd been holding in escape.

"Yeah, with all of us, Alice and the Quidditch team," said Sirius shaking his head.

"Baby steps," promised James, digging into his chicken with renewed enthusiasm.

* * *

 _A/N: Hello! Sorry this has taken so long, I lost motivation for a while but now I have found it again! Please let me know what you think, I haven't written in a few years so I am very rusty._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and the following dialogue between Lily and Snape was taken from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows:_

 _"I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just-"_

 _"Slipped out? It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends ... You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."_


End file.
